Placemats
by kittycat69
Summary: Oneshot. They're doing more than just living in this house together. They've marked their spot. Set down roots. They've found their place. MichaelxChristine. Future-centric.


**a/n: This is more of a drabble than a oneshot, just because it's kind of short. Either way, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bones.

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**Placemats**

Christine and Michael make the decision to stay in Washington DC after going back and forth between several different East Coast cities (and states, ugh) for months. He thought it would be a nice change of pace to live somewhere a little more quiet and rural; like Maine or Vermont. She, on the other hand, loves cities for the interesting people and the bounty of choices and the adventure to be found in them. Which is why she wanted to live in New York City or Boston or Philadelphia. They tried a couple of both options before eventually choosing to go back home, to Washington DC, to where it all started.

Washington DC is neutral ground and, after spending a majority of their lives growing up in the suburbs of the capitol city, they figure 'hey, this is a good of a place as any'. So they start looking for houses in a nearby suburb community. It is known for its parks and good schools, and it is close enough to their parents to visit often, but far enough away that they still feel like the independent young adults they are. Their 'Dream Home' wish list is longer than their laughable budget can handle, but they know they want something they can grow into (you know, after they eventually get married and have a couple kids). He dreams of a fixer-upper with a big, wood-burning fireplace in the living room, a patio to entertain with, and a spare room for an art studio. She wants a move-in-ready house with a playroom for their (future) children, a breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a laundry chute.

It takes a while, but eventually they scrape together enough money to put a down payment on the house they had their eye on for months. It's the perfect size; four bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms, with peeling paint and creaky wooden stairs.

But they call it home.

Their parents volunteer a couple weekends to help lay new floors and install a new set of cabinets, and Angela keeps paint swatches in her purse for weeks while they pick out paint that will help tie together their theme.

Their "theme" being hodgepodge, mismatched furniture that they've collected over time from garage sales, thrift stores, and their parents.

(There's a time where they're both in a really clever mood about it and they call everything "heirloom" to make it sound like they don't mean "trashy" or "garage sale" or "hand-me-downs", but Michael tends to ban the word when they run out of alcohol.)

To signify the official move in, the Michael and Christine plan a dinner party. It's bad taste to pay your parents for their labor, and they're pretty broke anyways.

The whole time they cook (well, Michael cooks and Christine mostly chops things) something feels…off.

"It just doesn't feel permanent," Christine sighs as she stirs the pasta sauce on the stove, "It still feels like we're renting _another_ apartment."

"But we're not, it's ours," Michael assures her.

When their parents finally get to the house for dinner, Angela and Hodgins present them with a nice bottle of wine and Brennan is holding an oddly wrapped package.

"Your first hostess gifts," she announces with a smile to the young couple as she hands her daughter the package. Christine thanks both of her parents with a quick hug. She turns to hand the bottle of wine to Michael so she can accept the gift from her mother. She giggles as she tears at the wrapping, but her laugh quickly turns into something else when she opens it.

Their round, thrift store dining room table seats six without the panel or extra chairs. So when Christine unwraps the present and pulls out six, bright orange placemats with a bone motif pattern on them ("They aren't anatomically correct, of course, but they were on sale from Halloween!" Brennan interjects with a smile.) it all makes sense.

They're doing more than living in this house. They've marked their spot. Set down roots.

They've found their place.


End file.
